Spring Steps Slowly

Half-dressed trees dance in an April wind-shuffle. New buds learn how to shake raindrops off. Winter’s skeletal joints are a lightly applied moss green, a mild mannered climate now simmering bark and branch. To jump right into the heat of summer would be a greenhorn maneuver, March’s wayward proclivities may have yet more to say. Spring steps slowly into a newly-lit ring testing for sink-holes in a blue tinted sky. Many are recovering, convalescing, mending the torn tissue, patching up ice-bitten dreams. Today a nursing breeze foretells of fat fields, of less demanding times, of harvests and an fruiting glut. Time to break the frosted walking stick, to rise up in the rosy cheek and sinew - tell the lazy cat on the warming step to go catch the coming sun and bring it home.